


Episode 3: The Literal Firestorm

by Galaxy_Collector, robinwritesallthethings



Series: Words To Live By (Season One) [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Peter Hale, Alternative Werewolf Lore, Angst, Beacon Hills (Teen Wolf), Beacon Hills High School, Beacon Hills Lacrosse Team, Beta Derek Hale, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Everybody Talks Too Much, F/M, Good Peter Hale, Language, Meeting the Parents, Pre-Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Sane Peter Hale, Scott Being an Idiot, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Feels, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Werewolf Hunters, Werewolf Lore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:41:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25288489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galaxy_Collector/pseuds/Galaxy_Collector, https://archiveofourown.org/users/robinwritesallthethings/pseuds/robinwritesallthethings
Summary: After a sit down with Derek Hale, Stiles becomes insufferable over being right while Scott attempts to wrap his mind around his supernatural issue.
Relationships: Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Lydia Martin/Jackson Whittemore
Series: Words To Live By (Season One) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1804672
Comments: 7
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ATTENTION: This is a ground floor rewrite of the entire series. While we absolutely adore the actors and the characters they helped shape and mold, the series left a lot to be desired in terms of satisfying character arcs and developments. Due to this, we have decided to rewrite/reimagine the entire series from episode one forward.
> 
> Everything you know about Teen Wolf that was shown on screen may appear in the subsequent seasons/books in the same manner, but a lot has changed. Also, please understand that while Sterek is end game in every sense of the word, this is a very intricately plotted series rewrite by two professional screenwriters. It is slow burn and it is angsty and there will be romance and smut and all the goods, but it is not going to happen overnight. We want each arc to be fully developed and we want the lore to be without plot holes.
> 
> We sincerely hope you like it and while we do not blame Jeff Davis or any of the show writers, we just think the studio probably gave them a framework that was never going to work. Therefore, we thought we'd help them out a bit.
> 
> xoxo,  
> GalaxyCollector

The parking lot was eerily quiet as both Scott and Stiles stared at Derek with their mouths hanging open in surprise. Derek retracted his fangs and fingernails with ease, his eyes returning to their normal color as he waited for one of them to talk. 

But it was Stiles reaching out to smack Scott hard in the chest and whooping in victory that finally broke the silence. 

“Dude, I knew it!” Stiles exclaimed loudly, turning to face Scott. “I totally fucking called it.” He looked back to Derek quickly, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Also, get your wolfy butt off my Jeep, dude. It’s an antique.” 

Derek shook his head as he cracked a smile, recomposing his face into something that resembled more of the scowl he was famous for and then crossing his arms over his chest. He didn’t want to, but he complied with Stiles’ request too, pushing off the hood of the Jeep completely. 

“Yes, Stiles,” he replied with a stern hiss, “congratulations. You were right. Scott is a werewolf. But can you literally stop _yelling_ the word werewolf in the huge, echoing parking lot, please?”

Stiles fell into a stunned silence at Derek’s words, his mouth closing with an audible snap. But only momentarily because it was still Stiles Stilinski and Derek was pretty sure it was impossible for him to be quiet longer than thirty seconds. 

“Fine. I will stop saying the ‘W’ word, but…”

“What the hell?” Scott interrupted. “This is not okay.” His breath started to come out in sharp gasps and Derek could tell he was losing his battle against the panic that probably had been threatening to set in for a few days now. “What’s… _happening_?”

Derek walked over to him, putting both his hands on Scott’s shoulders to steady him. “Breathe, Scott,” he commanded softly. “Try to stay calm, okay? We’re brothers now. We look out for each other. You can do this.”

Stiles snorted his laughter nearby and Derek tore his eyes from the top of Scott’s head with the most annoyed look he could muster. 

“What the _hell_ are you laughing at?” he accused. “This is incredibly serious.”

Stiles nodded once and forced his mouth into a line, instead of the smirk Derek had always seen him wear. 

“Sorry,” Stiles started again. “That was just, ya know, _really_ corny, dude. Brothers? You’ve known each other for, what? Like, five seconds? As werewolves, at least. You’ve barely talked to use the whole time you’ve been assistant coach. And you definitely didn’t talk to us when we were freshmen.”

“Yeah, maybe I _would_ have if you’d played better,” Derek muttered, turning back to Scott. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Stiles crossing his arms and mimicking Derek’s earlier stance as he sniffed haughtily. “No need to be rude.”

Derek rolled his eyes just about the time that Scott started to fight against his hold. When he looked back up to Derek, Scott’s eyes were a deep golden hue and told him everything he needed to know. 

Derek, for one, had tried on that look more times than he cared to admit after his mom and sisters had passed away. He knew Scott was scared. He also knew Scott was about to _run_. 

“No. No, Scott. Look at me,” he demanded. “You’re not going anywhere, all right? I get that you’re freaking out right now, but I am _not_ chasing a baby werewolf through the forest all night.”

“I am not a werewolf,” Scott yelled, struggling further. “Werewolves _aren’t_ real!”

“Yes, they are,” Derek responded. “And so are werewolf _hunters_. You can’t run off, okay?”

“Not okay,” Scott said, hyperventilating rapidly. “Not okay.” 

“Werewolf _hunters_?” Stiles squeaked, ignoring Scott’s meltdown. 

“Yes. Hunters,” Derek declared, turning to Stiles without letting go of Scott. “There are some in Beacon Hills, in fact.” He turned back to Scott, forcing him to meet his eyes. “Do you hear me, Scott? We are apex predators, but we can still be taken out by hunters. You can still die. You aren’t invincible. If you want to survive, you need to come with me. Right now, you’re an Omega. A lone wolf. That’s incredibly dangerous. You need a pack.”

“Are these hunters trying to kill Scott?” 

“Not yet,” Derek said, shaking his head. “Most hunters have a code. They won’t kill a werewolf who hasn’t harmed anyone.” But then he swallowed hard and hoped Stiles and Scott didn’t see him, remembering that awful night years ago when he found out the hard way not everyone took that oath. “And Scott hasn’t, _right_?”

Stiles shook his head without hesitation. 

“I haven’t hurt anyone,” Scott interjected. “I’m not _going_ to hurt anybody either.”

“Good,” Derek said, nodding. “Good. But you will, if you don’t learn to control yourself. Did you, uh, change this weekend? At the full moon?” 

“Something happened to me, but…,” his voice filtered off and he shook his head. “I was just, uh, sick. I was on a date with Allison and I just got sick.”

Stiles threw his hands up in the air, clearly irritated with Scott’s inability to grasp such a simple concept. One they had probably been over and over a few times, by the look of it. 

“You didn’t get sick, Scott,” Stiles complained. “You jumped in my window fully wolfed out or whatever. I had to lock you in a goddamn cage, man, and you _still_ almost got out and scratched my face off.”

Derek couldn’t help himself as his eyes nearly bugged out of his head, thinking of what kind of state both had been in to lock Scott in a cage like that. 

“It’s great that you didn’t hurt anyone this time, Scott,” Derek said, forcing himself back to the conversation at hand, determined not to think about the alternatives. “But you will if you don’t have my help. And my uncle’s help.” 

The name they’d mentioned earlier was suddenly setting off alarm bells in Derek’s head too, and he couldn’t help but change the subject. 

“Did you say Allison? As in Allison Argent?”

That had Scott’s attention. He looked at Derek finally. Really looked. “Yeah. I was on a date with Allison,” he repeated. 

“Did she notice anything? See you change?”

He shook his head. “No. No.” He took a deep breath. “Why does that matter, anyway, though?”

“Because, Scott,” Derek replied, “it’s bad for any human to see you change. But _especially_ Allison. And you may think she loves you, but…”

“Whoa,” Stiles interrupted. “Love? No. Not love. They’ve been on one date. They’ve known each other for, like, a week or something. Not in love. That would be so fucking dumb.”

“But I _do_ love Allison,” Scott whispered. 

Stiles scoffed loudly and rolled his eyes upward, muttering at the night sky as if it held any of the answers here.

Under any other circumstances, Derek would’ve found the entire exchange hilarious. From Stiles’ insistence that his best friend was _not_ in love, to Scott’s defiance of the supernatural, it was laughable, but right now it was the furthest thing from funny. 

“Great. That’s great. It wasn’t enough that you tell him he’s a werewolf,” Stiles argued, rounding on Derek again. “Now you had to make him realize he’s in love with Allison too. Too much, Derek. Too much for one night.”

Derek couldn’t do anything but shrug. He had no words of wisdom on that front for either one of them. He had no frame of reference for real love. He knew what he thought it felt like, but he’d been a teenager himself too and he knew that’s the last thing either of them would want to hear. 

“Why were you asking me about Allison?” Scott questioned. 

“Because, Scott,” Derek sighed deeply. “The Argents are werewolf hunters.”


	2. Chapter 2

Stiles watched Scott closely. He was staring ahead at Derek as he struggled to process everything that had just been thrown at him. Stiles hated this for him, but he couldn’t help but wonder if Derek was right. Clearly Scott wasn’t listening to reason. Or Stiles. 

“Allison is a werewolf hunter?” he asked. “How can you possibly know that? They showed up in town, like, ten seconds ago.” 

“No. No, she’s not,” Scott said, shaking his head. “She can’t be.”

“Yes, she is,” Derek retorted calmly. “Or her family is. She _might_ be. I don’t actually know for sure. But my point is that you’re playing with fire hanging out with a girl who may or may not recognize the signs of what you are.” 

Scott opened his mouth to respond, probably with some dumb comment about how none of it could be true, but Derek interrupted him. Again. 

“Look, Scott. I can explain everything better, but not here. Not in the middle of a parking lot. Somewhere private. I’ll lay it all out for you, I swear.” 

Once again, Scott just stared ahead like he didn’t know what words were or something. And Stiles could see the gears turning behind his eyes. He wanted to make this resemble the world he knew before he’d been bitten, and it was getting harder and harder. It was one thing when it was Stiles telling him a bunch of lore, but it was another thing entirely to have Derek _show_ him. 

“Great. You literally blew his mind,” Stiles mumbled. “Let me handle this.”

Stiles pressed on Derek’s shoulder to move him out of the way from where he was standing in front of Scott, still holding onto him. But he didn’t budge. Instead, he just perked an eyebrow at Stiles. 

“Umm, could you, like, move the hell outta the way so I can talk to my bestest friend in the whole world, please?” Stiles asked sweetly, even batting his eyes at him. 

Derek smirked and then stepped aside for Stiles to weasel his way in between them, but only barely. He wasn’t going anywhere, it seemed. Though Stiles wouldn’t admit it, he didn’t really want him to. He wasn’t capable of chasing Scott, for one. 

Stiles replaced Derek’s hands on Scott’s shoulders as he looked at him. “Dude, come on. I know this is a lot to take in, all right? But it’s a good thing. Derek can be like your werewolf Yoda or whatever. We need someone who knows what’s happening to you, and he does.” 

“I don’t wanna be a monster, Stiles,” Scott whispered, ducking his head again. 

Stiles felt his heart break a little as the words left Scott’s mouth, and he wrapped him in a tight hug without another thought. 

“You’re _not_ a monster,” he insisted. “You’re not. And I’m not gonna let you become one. I’m still gonna be here. Every step of the way. But I do think we need to go with Derek. I know, okay? It’s got a very ‘Come with me if you want to live’ vibe, but I think he’s right too.”

Stiles couldn’t help but smile as Scott finally laughed, and he could see Derek tilt his head curiously at their interaction. Like most people did when they were together. Stiles knew the way they were with each other didn’t make sense to a lot of people, or any people, but it worked for them. And he wasn’t about to get self-conscious now just because it was Derek Hale watching. 

“We at least owe it to him to hear him out, right?” Stiles continued. “I mean, it’s not like anyone else is offering solutions.”

Scott nodded once and then shook his head. “No, I… I guess not,” he agreed. “All right, let’s go with Derek.” 

Stiles tried not to be smug about the whole thing as he looked back at Derek, still watching them closely. Too closely. 

“All right, I’ll drive,” he announced. 

Derek smirked. Again. “You realize werewolves don’t need cars, right?”

“No, but humans do. I’m not about to let you or him give me a piggyback ride.”

“Like I’d give you one.” Derek grimaced. “Uh, Stiles, I don’t mean to be… indelicate, but you know this is a sort of werewolves only conversation, right?”

He stopped walking and turned on his heel. “Oh, no. You’re not cutting me out. If anyone is his brother, it’s me. Not you. I’ve been his best friend since literally forever. He’s not doing this without me.”

“Humans are a liability, Stiles,” Derek muttered. 

“Most humans, sure,” Stiles agreed with a shrug. “But not _this_ human, okay?” He turned around again, continuing to the car. “So, pardon me, Your Great Wolfyness, but I can help. I figured out what he was before he even realized. That has to count for something. And I was way better at calming him down just now than you were, so the way I see it, I’m not a liability. You _need_ me.”

Derek stared at him for a second longer before he sighed and his shoulders slumped in defeat. He was annoyed, but Stiles had won. And that’s all he cared about anyway. 

“You can’t think of a way to refute my amazingly solid argument, can you?”

Derek sighed heavily again. “No. I can’t. So… let’s just go. But let me drive, at least.”

Scott laughed loudly at the offer and Stiles shook his head vehemently. “No one drives the Jeep but me.”

Derek rolled his eyes as he walked behind Stiles. “That’s a dumb rule.”

“It’s not a rule,” Scott insisted. “He means literally. No one _can_ drive it except him. It’s an antique for real. That thing is messed up. He just refuses to get rid of it.”

“Hey!” Stiles complained loudly. “Do not trash the Jeep. Just... get in. We’re hitting the drive-thru and then we can go to Scott’s house. His mom’s at the hospital tonight, so we’ll have plenty of time to talk amongst ourselves.”

Scott snorted his laughter at Stiles’ outburst as he got into the passenger seat and Derek struggled to fit in the back. When Stiles was content that everyone was strapped in safely, not that it mattered for anyone but him, he pulled out of the empty lot. 

“Drive-thru?” Derek asked skeptically after a few quiet minutes. 

“Uh, yeah. We just finished practice, remember?” Stiles asked, looking at him through the rearview mirror. “Besides, I think a hugely serious conversation about creatures that aren’t supposed to exist requires food.” 

“I could eat,” Scott piped up. 

“You’ll always be able to eat,” Derek retorted with a chuckle. “You’re a werewolf.”

Derek’s stomach suddenly growled loudly to reiterate his point, and Stiles saw his expression turn sheepish. 

“Fine,” Derek conceded. “Drive-thru, then Scott’s.” 

“Like you had a choice,” Stiles mumbled. 

Derek kicked the back of his seat once, causing Stiles to give him his best death glare in the rearview before turning back to the road. As awkward as this entire thing was, Stiles could think of worse people to be stuck in a car and navigating a very precarious situation with than Derek Hale.


	3. Chapter 3

“All right,” Derek started, throwing the wrapper of his sandwich away. “You keep eating. I’ll talk.”

Stiles nodded once with curly fries still hanging out of his mouth, and then he looked to Scott to see if he was even paying attention. More often than not lately, he wasn’t, which made him nervous. The only time that they’d hung out around Derek, he’d been their coach, and he didn’t really take kindly to being ignored. Even if there was a good reason, like Scott’s existential crisis. 

“At some point, you’ll need to walk me through exactly what’s happened in the last few days, but that can wait,” Derek offered. “No matter how you became a werewolf, and we need to figure that out too, you’re one now and that’s not the most pressing issue. First, we need to make sure you can handle this.”

Scott tensed visibly beside Stiles and he reached out to touch his arm. “I get that this is hard for you, but you gotta stop freaking out every time someone says werewolf, okay? You’ve gotta get used to it at some point.”

“Yeah,” Scott said, swallowing hard and nodding. “Yeah, okay. I’ll try.”

He went back to staying focused on his sandwich again, clearly working to stay calm like he promised. 

“Look, Scott. I know this is terrifying. It always is when you’re bitten and not born,” Derek commented. 

“Born?” Stiles asked. 

Derek nodded. “A werewolf’s bite can turn a person. A scratch too, if it’s deep enough. But werewolves can also be born to other werewolves. It’s simple genetics. My family’s been werewolves a long time, so I was born one.”

“What do the eyes mean?” Stiles questioned, motioning toward Derek’s face. “Scott’s are, like, dark yellow or gold. Yours were blue earlier.”

“You know, Stiles, I have a whole speech ready here, and you’re kinda jumping ahead.”

Stiles shrugged and shoved more of his curly fries into his mouth. “I have a natural curiosity. I just can’t help myself.”

Scott swallowed beside him. “It’s okay. I was wondering that too, actually.”

Derek ran his hand through his hair and then put his palms flat on the table. Stiles couldn’t help it as he got nervous. He was rarely around people whose intentions he couldn’t figure out, and with Derek that was always a problem. He kept most of himself hidden. A huge portion, it turned out. 

“Okay, fine, we’ll skip ahead,” Derek conceded. “Eyes. Alphas, like my Uncle Peter, have red eyes. Betas have blue eyes. All other wolves have the yellow eyes.” He put a finger up as Stiles opened his mouth again. “Before you ask, Stiles, the colors don’t do anything except signify rank. Alphas are stronger than Betas, and Betas are stronger than all other werewolves.”

“How do you become an Alpha or a Beta?” Stiles jumped in before Derek could stop him again. 

“Born werewolves can be Alphas by blood. But anyone can become an Alpha if they kill one. But I don’t recommend that. They’re very hard to kill, and it’s generally frowned on.”

Stiles chuckled, but he couldn’t tell if Derek was making a joke or not. His tone made it impossible to tell. 

“We’ll talk more about rules between werewolves later,” he said. “But Betas are designated by the Alpha of a pack. If the Alpha dies for any reason, the Beta automatically becomes the Alpha, unless he was killed by an Omega. Then it sort of skips the Beta.” 

“And an Omega is the lone wolf, right? That’s what you said earlier,” Stiles pointed out. 

“Yeah. It’s not safe to be an Omega. That’s why you really need to join our pack, Scott. I just have to talk to Peter first. It’s technically his decision, since he’s the Alpha.” 

Scott nodded, balling up the silver wrapper of his sandwich and grabbing another one. Stiles knew exactly what he was doing, but he had to know it wasn’t going to work this time. It wasn’t an uncomfortable family dinner with his dad once every few years. This was about his life. 

“Eventually, your mouth isn't gonna be full and you’ll have to talk, Scott,” Derek smirked, reading Stiles’ mind. 

His chewing paused briefly, but then he shrugged and resumed without saying anything. Stiles rolled _his_ eyes now over Scott’s attitude, knowing he wasn’t going to talk until he was good and ready. 

“So, where do werewolves come from? Like originally?” Stiles asked through another mouthful of fries. 

Derek turned to stare at Stiles, just as calmly as before, and then leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms casually over his chest. 

“Your friend has much better manners than you,” he remarked, nodding toward Scott. 

Stiles swallowed and made a face at Derek, but didn’t stop eating. He had heard that before, and clearly it didn’t affect him like everyone else thought it should. 

“Werewolves first came to be in Greece when King Lycaon killed his sons,” Derek stated simply. “And then fed them to Zeus for dinner.” Stiles’ eyes got wider with each word as he swallowed and pushed the rest of his food away from him. “Zeus didn’t like that and turned him into a werewolf.”

“I, uh… I’ve read that one, but I didn’t know if it was true,” Stiles admitted. 

Derek stared at him, ever stoic, before bursting out laughing. Stiles’ eyes narrowed again, unimpressed with his attempt at being funny. 

“I don’t know if it’s true or not, Stiles. It’s probably a load of crap. I just wanted to mess with you.” 

“You’re rude. You’re a mean old werewolf and I don’t approve. Scott, kick him out,” Stiles argued, not meaning a word of it. 

“What’s the fun of keeping a human around in on all our secrets if I don’t get to mess with him a little?” Derek asked, giving Stiles a wink.

Stiles waved his hand dismissively at the insinuation that this was all he was good for as Derek let a few more light chuckles escape his lips. 

“Fine, fine,” Stiles agreed. “Why don’t you get to the part that’s really important for Scott?” 

Derek nodded. “Gladly.” He paused, glanced at Scott, and waited for him to do anything other than concentrate on the sandwich in front of him like it was his job. “Are you feeling up to telling me exactly what happened that night and everything after?”

Scott reluctantly pushed his food away, and nodded slowly. “Yeah,” he breathed. “Yeah, I can do that.”

For the first time in days, Scott peeled back the layers of what had occurred and Stiles listened intently. He had been there for most of it, at least the stuff at the beginning, but there was plenty that was new to him. Mostly because Scott had been so stubborn about addressing and accepting any of it. 

Stiles also watched Derek. He wanted to know everything he could about what was happening to his best friend, and while there were probably plenty of things he had overlooked, Derek would pick up on even the most innocuous detail. 

When Scott finally finished, Derek looked at him and gave his best version of a reassuring smile, though it came off as more of a grimace. Stiles hated it, but he also found it oddly adorable. 

Which made him hate it more. 

“It sounds like you’ve gone through most of the changes already,” he said decidedly. “Smell, sight, hearing. We can teach you how to manage most of that, but you haven’t run out of school screaming, so you’re ahead of the game, I think.”

Stiles smiled and ducked his head, not wanting Derek to see that he found any humor in the situation. _He_ was the only one allowed to use humor to deflect tension in this house. 

“What else changes?” Scott finally asked. “When I transform, I mean. Just the fangs and fingernails?”

“Fangs, fingernails, and eyes,” Derek confirmed. “It doesn’t sound like much, but it’s enough if the right person sees you. Like a hunter, for instance. That’s why the most important thing right now is learning how to control it.”

“I controlled it this weekend,” Scott insisted.

Stiles scoffed before he could stop himself, and the way Scott’s voice wavered made it obvious to anyone listening that he was completely uncertain. Stiles wasn’t even sure Scott could truly remember either way. 

“No, you got lucky this weekend, Scott,” Derek corrected him. “And I’m glad you did, because the hunters won’t feel the need to step in, but you can’t rely on getting lucky every month. You need to master the change so you can use it. The compulsion to change is strongest at the full moon. It doesn’t just disappear every other day.”

Stiles could tell Scott was shutting down again, processing the information the only way he knew how. Which meant it was time for Stiles to step back in. A little number they had perfected over the years. And most people didn’t think twice about it. 

Stiles had a feeling that Derek wasn’t going to fall into that ‘most people’ category, though, and he wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing yet. 

“So if there are hunters and stuff,” he wondered out loud, “how have you managed to survive this long? To stay hidden?”

“Well, for one, we don’t go around shouting about being werewolves,” Derek replied pointedly. 

Stiles deadpanned, “And?” 

“And we don’t transform in front of people. Like in bowling alleys,” Derek insisted, pulling his eyes from Stiles’ face to look in Scott’s direction again. “Like complete idiots.”

“It was an accident,” Scott murmured. 

Stiles ruffled at the insinuation, as if Derek was insulting him directly. “You’re being a little harsh, don’t ya think?” he asked, remaining as gentle as possible for Scott’s benefit. “He’s all brand new and stuff. He didn’t know.”

“He did know,” Derek continued. “You told him. He was left to his own devices, which wouldn’t have happened if it’d been me, and he wouldn’t listen to you. Which, based on what you clearly know, was a lot of shit. Right?”

Stiles shrugged, refusing to side with Derek. “That can’t happen again,” he said. 

“What about your uncle?” Stiles insisted. “He’s the obvious candidate for changing Scott, right? So why did he leave Scott to his own devices?”

“I’ll ask him, but I know he didn’t do this. He wouldn’t leave him alone. He wouldn’t have even bitten him,” Derek contended. 

“But you’re the only two werewolves in Beacon Hills,” Stiles emphasized. 

“As far as I know, which is a whole other set of problems if it turns out one of us didn’t do it, Stiles.”

He sighed and stood up, his body still as tense as it was in the parking lot when he was waiting for Scott to bolt. He was worried. Which worried Stiles. 

“Listen, it’s getting late,” Derek added. “I’ll go home, talk to Peter, and see what he knows. Come over for breakfast tomorrow and we’ll make a plan before school starts.”

Stiles nodded, wanting to accept, but knowing it wasn’t technically an invitation for him. If anything, he was now officially Scott’s plus one into the supernatural world. He was a guest. 

“Scott, does that sound okay?” Derek prodded. 

“Ye––yeah. That sounds okay,” Scott muttered. “Thanks, Derek.”

He didn’t look up to meet his eyes as he talked, but when Derek rounded the table and put a hand on his shoulder and gave it a pat, he didn’t flinch away either. 

_Progress_. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” Derek asserted quietly. “I know it’s scary. But it’s gonna be okay. I promise.”

Scott nodded. “Thanks, Derek,” Stiles repeated. “And, uh, thanks for paying for dinner.”

Derek shrugged. “It’s nothing. Gotta mark the occasion somehow. Arby’s isn’t what I would’ve done, but it’s good enough, I guess.”

He gave Stiles a wink over Scott’s head before mouthing, ‘Watch him’. Stiles, of course, nodded as Derek lingered for another second and then turned to leave, bathing them in silence as the front door shut behind them. 

Stiles knew to wait to see if Scott would start talking first. He was the one with the big furry problem. He pulled his fries back toward him after a few excruciating minutes and popped a few in his mouth. It was rare that Stiles stayed quiet for anything, but he wanted Scott to be comfortable. Or as comfortable as he could be. 

He would talk when he was ready. 

“Are you, uh, gonna stay the night?” Scott asked, not looking at him either. 

“Of course,” Stiles remarked. “Especially if we have to be at Derek’s that early.” 

He gave him a nod and then looked at Stiles out of the corner of his eye. “Just… ask it.” 

“Ask what?” Stiles said, playing dumb. 

“Whatever it is you’re dying to ask. You look like you’re gonna explode.”

He chuckled and wiped his hands on his pants a few times. “How are you, uh, doing with all this?”

Scott shook his head. “Um. I… don’t really know, honestly.”

“That’s totally fair,” Stiles assured him, tapping his finger against the table. “But Derek’s right, you know. It’s going to be okay. You’re not alone in this. Even without your werewolf Yoda. I’m not going anywhere.”

Scott looked up at him and smiled. “Thanks, Stiles.”

“No problem, man.”

Silence descended again, and Stiles found he wasn’t as jittery as he’d been before. For just a minute, as he watched Scott put way too much ketchup on his plate for a third helping, everything felt normal. 


	4. Chapter 4

Derek walked into the kitchen and sighed heavily, apparently his new favorite thing to do now that he was dealing with a brand new werewolf. He ran his hand through his mussed hair, reminding him that his sleep the night before hadn’t been at all restful. He’d spent his evening in the woods by the burnt out relic of their former home, the place he always went when he needed to think. 

Peter walked in behind him only a few minutes later, making a beeline straight for the coffee maker, like he always did. His hair was sticking up in every direction, the sight making Derek smile, despite the conversation he was about to have. 

“You’ve been up and you _didn’t_ make coffee?” Peter insisted. “I thought I raised you better than that.”

Derek smirked. “I just got in. Didn’t you notice my clothes? Same as last night.”

Peter turned slowly and looked him up and down, blinking rapidly and then rubbing his eyes. “Oh. Well, where have _you_ been? Did you have a date?”

Derek rolled his eyes as Peter turned his attention back to the coffee maker and pushed all the necessary buttons to make it brew what he always referred to as the magic liquid that made him sane. 

Derek snorted. “No. I didn’t have a date.” 

He leaned against the wall nearest him, crossing his arms over his chest and refusing to offer more. He didn’t want to ask this at all, but especially not of Peter. He knew how important it was, and he knew the answer. Or he hoped he did. 

“Can I, uh, talk to you about something?” he asked timidly. “Serious.”

Peter nodded, but didn’t turn back around. He grabbed a cup from the shelf and shoved it underneath the spout, willing the machine to go faster. 

“You certainly sound more broody than normal,” Peter teased. “Shoot.”

Derek took a deep, steadying breath, unsure of where to begin. “I’m, uh, just gonna ask. And if it isn’t you, I don’t want you to get mad at me. Okay?”

But he wondered how practical that was. He was basically accusing Peter of committing a pretty serious crime. And even if the rest of the world might not see it as one, it was to them. 

“Scott McCall was bitten. He’s a senior on my lacrosse team,” he said, swallowing hard when he saw Peter’s shoulders tense. “It was just a few nights ago, I think, and nothing crazy has happened, but I need to know if it was you.”

Peter turned slowly, pushing off the counter and revealing a prominent frown on his face as his hands began to curl into fists. He pressed them into the tile at the top of the island between them, his eyes flashing red for the briefest of seconds. 

When he spoke, he was calm and measured. Like always. “You think I bit an innocent kid and left him alone?” he asked softly. “Christ, Derek. Do you _really_ think that little of me?”

Derek shook his head quickly, stepping forward and uncrossing his arms. “No. No, Peter, I don’t. Really,” he declared. “Look, it’s just… it wasn’t that long before the full moon and neither of us has been entirely in control of ourselves since the fire. I thought maybe… maybe it got away from you or something. Or you didn’t realize it happened. You and I both know there are no other werewolves in Beacon Hills. That leaves two options.” 

He motioned between himself and Peter, continuing before his uncle could misinterpret his motivations behind the line of questioning. He felt horrible enough already. He didn’t want to add miscommunication to their list of problems. 

“The other packs close enough haven’t touched us since it happened, even though we’re so weak, so I don’t think it was them.”

Peter stared ahead for a moment before rolling his neck to the side, cracking it and then his knuckles. When he was finished, he shut his eyes and then opened them again, revealing they were still his normal, _human_ icy blue color. 

He slowly straightened back up to his full height, took a deep breath like Derek had done before Peter had entered the room, and looked him squarely in the eyes. 

“Okay,” he began, “I can understand where you’re coming from. I can. But, Derek, I would hope you know that if I made a mistake that big, and that’s a big one, I would say something to you. Because I’m not under the impression I can’t make them, okay? I know what my responsibilities here are.”

“Yeah, I know,” Derek muttered, hanging his head. 

“I’m not trying to make you feel guilty,” Peter countered. “Just show me a little more faith than that. Because if it was you, I know you would come to me and own up to it. Right?” Derek nodded. “And because you’re my _nephew_ and _I love you_ , I would never think that low of you either.”

Derek wanted to hate him for pulling the family card, but he knew it applied. Even if it made sense in every universe for him to ask, in this one, where Peter had raised him and shown him nothing but love, it was out of line.

He saw that now. 

“And I would help you figure it out,” Peter added. 

And just like that, he was fifteen again. His anger was fiery and instant. He slammed his fist on the counter, knowing his eyes were flashing blue without having to look in a mirror. 

“I’m sorry, okay?” he yelled. “I’m sorry.”

Peter blinked slowly, watching him and letting him work it out for himself like he always did.

“You’ve been talking about strengthening the pack for a long time,” Derek said, much softer than before. “And I know you put that off because of me. Because you were taking care of me. I know how much you’ve sacrificed. I was just… I don’t know… worried suppressing it for that long might have…”

“You thought I might have come to the end of my rope and just turned someone who didn’t ask,” Peter completed for him. “I get it, Derek. I do. It makes sense. I’m sorry I got mad at you, okay?”

They stood in silence, staring each other down, unsure of where to go from there. Finally, Peter uncrossed his arms and turned back to the coffee maker, grabbing his cup. 

“Look, let’s start over,” Peter offered. “I didn’t bite him. You didn’t bite him. But we still gotta figure this out. Where is he now?”

As he turned back to Derek, he took a cautious sip of his steaming cup and waited for Derek to answer. 

“They’re on their way over,” he answered. 

Peter perked an eyebrow. “They? I thought you said it was one.”

“It is,” Derek said. “He’s coming with Stiles, his best friend. Scott doesn’t have a car. And Stiles was the one who actually figured it out.”

He ended his sentence with a shrug, but he knew what Peter was going to say next. He was trying to play it off, though. He knew Scott coming without Stiles wasn’t an option, and the sooner Peter got on board with that, the better. 

“He figured it out? That’s kind of a… problem, don’t you think, Derek? The whole humans shouldn’t know thing. Remember?”

“He’s fine,” Derek insisted. “He’s super smart. But don’t tell _him_ I said that. I’ll totally deny it if you do.”

Peter chuckled and took another sip. “Your secret is safe. I’ll make breakfast and we can talk this over. Why don’t you shower? I can smell you from over here.”

Derek rolled his eyes like he always did when Peter insisted it wasn’t his supernatural powers involved that made that possible. But he turned to leave regardless. He did need a shower, for starters. 

“Love you, Derek!” Peter replied obnoxiously loud as Derek walked toward his room. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled, a smile on his face. “Love you too.”


	5. Chapter 5

Derek smirked as he brought over another plate of food, this time bacon, and placed it on the island where Scott and Stiles were sitting. Stiles hadn’t stopped moving since they’d sat down, and now he was spinning in circles on the stool, trying desperately to take in everything at once. 

And knowing Stiles, that _was_ highly possible. 

Ever since Derek had come back to Beacon Hills as the assistant coach, he had watched all the guys on the team, but especially Stiles. It was impossible not to. He was always––sometimes literally––bouncing from one place to another. And his ADD gave him heightened senses in a way that most people couldn’t comprehend. Most people obviously not including Derek. 

He was like a hyperactive puppy, and as much as Derek wanted Stiles, and his incredibly frail human body, as far from the action as possible, that wasn’t going to happen. He was Scott’s anchor in a way that no one else could or should be, so he couldn’t exactly be mad at him for figuring everything out either. 

He was Scott’s lifeline. 

When the last tray was set down, Peter and Derek joined Scott and Stiles, filling their own plates, letting the other two know it was fine for them to do the same now. There was a semi-awkward moment of silence as they each piled way too much in front of them before Scott started to shovel food in his mouth with the same gusto as he had last night. 

Peter watched Scott for a second before turning to Derek with a perked eyebrow in question. 

“He thinks if he does that, it’ll get him out of talking,” Derek explained quietly. 

Stiles snorted and shoved a piece of bacon in his own mouth, chewing at a much slower pace than Scott. 

“An admirable effort, but someone has to break the ice, and since I’m the Alpha…”

“You’re going to give us the lowdown on this whole wolfy situation?” Stiles interrupted with a question. “Derek gave us, like, a sneak preview last night.”

He swallowed hard as Scott remained stoically silent, his mouth completely full. 

“No asthma, faster, stronger, super sight, hearing, and smell,” Stiles began to rattle off. “Red eyes, blue eyes, dark yellow eyes, fangs, fingernails.” He stopped long enough to take a deep breath before he continued on. “Hunters, control, training. Alphas, Betas, and lone wolf. Uh, and King Lycaon and his sons.”

Peter laughed to himself and shook his head. “You told them that story?” 

“Stiles was being annoying,” Derek said with a shrug, “so I messed with him.”

“You’re rude,” Stiles retorted, his mouth full. 

“No talking with your mouth full,” Peter said automatically. “And that was a little rude, Derek, but perhaps understandable. I assume he always talks this much?”

“Yes,” Derek, Scott, and Stiles responded in unison. 

“So our newest wolf _does_ have a voice,” Peter said with another light chuckle. “Good.” 

Scott looked down at his plate again, suddenly engrossed in the bright colors on display there. Thankfully, Derek noticed that Peter knew not to say anything about it, instead turning to Stiles. The one person who _wanted_ to talk. 

“Your curiosity is rather endearing, Stiles,” Peter offered. “I appreciate that.”

Derek groaned as Stiles grinned happily. He didn’t need him getting a big head about all this either. Yes, he knew more than most, and definitely more than Scott was willing to accept, but the last thing Derek wanted was Stiles in the thick of any of this either.

He was going to get hurt, no matter his intentions. 

“I knew somebody would some day,” Stiles said. “So neither of you bit Scott, right? Derek already told us he didn’t, but he said he was going to ask you.”

Derek felt his face heat up instantly from embarrassment as he suddenly found his plate super interesting too, unable to meet Peter’s eyes. 

“He did ask me. No, I didn’t bite Scott,” Peter stated simply. “And while who did is most certainly a concern, I’m putting that on the back burner for right now. Because what is _far_ more important is that Scott join our pack and begin his training.” Peter turned to look directly at Scott, or more accurately, the top of Scott’s head as he continued. “So, Scott, consider this a formal invitation. As the Alpha of the Hale pack, I would like very much for you to join us.” 

They all turned to Scott, who was still staring down at his plate, eating slower now, but showing no signs he’d even heard Peter. 

“Well, uh, that was… oddly Shakespearean of you,” Stiles commented. 

Derek couldn’t help it as a chuckle escaped his lips and Peter shook his head. “I don’t get to rely on ceremony very often, Stiles, seeing as there are only two of us.”

Stiles’ eyes lit up the minute Peter mentioned that and Derek could tell right where he was headed. The Hale Fire was the stuff of legends in Beacon Hills, but most of it was just that. Legends. The true reason behind the fire had never been revealed, and most of what had occurred afterward tiptoed the supernatural line, so it had to be covered up. 

Stiles had to be _dying_ to know the truth. 

“Yeah, about that…,” he began. 

“No. No way. No family history right now, okay?” Derek stepped in. 

“Derek’s right. We’ll make time for that later,” Peter tacked on. “As I’m sure Derek explained, Scott, being an Omega, a lone wolf, is dangerous. You’ll be vulnerable. Not only to hunters, but to other packs. The simple truth is we’re safer in numbers. Especially since whoever bit you is probably still out there.”

Scott finally looked up, his face resembling more of a deer caught in headlights than anything else. But Stiles stepped back in before it got too bad. Derek found himself watching both of them again, fascinated by their relationship. 

“So if Peter is the Alpha, Derek is the Beta, and Scott is your, uh, new wolf friend, or whatever. What does that make me?”

“Our human,” Peter answered quickly. 

Too quickly. And too easily. Derek bristled before he could stop himself. 

“Our sarcastic human with no filter,” Derek mumbled.

“Eh, I can live with that,” Stiles said with a shrug. 

Peter glanced back to Scott as they bickered slightly, and Derek noticed he had officially stopped eating, but wasn’t looking at anyone in particular either. 

“Scott,” Peter said, lowering his voice to a soft, gentle tone Derek recognized well, “not to put too fine a point on it, but you need to start dealing with this. I’m so sorry this happened to you. Especially this way, but it _did_ happen. Burying your head in the sand and willing it to go away won’t change it. It’ll just get worse.”

Derek and Stiles both watched Scott as Peter talked, and when he didn’t respond yet again, he folded his arms over his chest in frustration. A move he used when he was blocking out the whole world, his therapist had told him once. 

But, once again, Stiles noticed first and turned to Scott to intervene. “Are you listening, dude?”

Scott nodded. But that was it. Just one curt nod. Any other person wouldn’t get away with being rude to Peter, but Derek knew what it meant to be bitten and not born. It was harder than what Derek had experienced. He didn’t get to dictate how Scott responded. 

Stiles motioned to Peter to keep going and he obliged quickly. “The only way you’re going to control yourself is through training. Derek told me you’ve been lucky so far, and that’s good, but you can't rely on luck to get you through every full moon.” 

He paused briefly, letting as much of his words sink in as possible. “A werewolf’s body is its greatest weapon, and without control, people can get hurt very easily. People like Stiles. You don’t wanna hurt Stiles, do you, Scott?”

“I don’t want you to hurt, Stiles, Scott,” Stiles joked, causing the corners of Scott’s mouth to turn up slightly. “This, uh, training. Can I come and watch? For, ya know, educational purposes?”

Derek started to shake his head, but Peter beat him to the punch and went against everything they’d ever talked about. Again, Derek bristled without warning. He didn’t care why it was happening, but he trusted his instincts. Stiles being involved was dangerous. 

“Normally, I would say no,” Peter started, “but as it’s obvious that you two are rather co-dependent, I’ll allow it. But you have to promise to do _exactly_ as I say if he loses control.”

Stiles waved his hand dismissively, not making Derek feel the least bit better. “Sure. No problem.”

“All this is rather a moot point, of course, if he doesn’t join the pack, though,” Peter remarked. 

“If he doesn’t join, you won’t help?” Stiles asked, his eyebrows furrowing with worry. 

“Of course we’ll still help,” Derek asserted, injecting himself back into the conversation unnecessarily. 

“Derek is right. We can still help. But joining a pack is more than just saying yes,” Peter divulged. “Werewolves are… magical is the best word. It’s a bit simplistic as explanations go, but it’ll do for now.” He punctuated the sentence with his own shrug before he prattled on. “Joining a pack creates a bond that literally strengthens all of its members. It’s not just symbolic. You’ll be stronger with us, Scott. We can try and protect you if you choose to be by yourself, of course, but we’ll be at a disadvantage, and you’d be left to navigate many of the intricacies of our world without guidance.”

“Maybe ease up a bit, Peter,” Derek responded softly. “They’re just kids.”

“And you were younger than them when pack dynamics came back to bite this family in the ass, Derek,” Peter argued. 

“Yes, but I was part of this world from the moment I was born. This is being thrown at Scott insanely fast. He just changed for the first time a few days ago. And wasn’t even admitting it until last night.”

Peter turned to him fully now, his own arms crossed. “And you’d rather he be unprepared, Derek? You might as well hand him over to the hunters before he causes an inevitable scene then. They’ll go after him anyway.” 

“I’m just saying you should ease him into it,” Derek grumbled, not used to being reprimanded in front of an audience. 

“Okay. And what’s your grand plan for easing them into this?” Peter responded tersely. 

Derek knew he was being backed into a corner. He didn’t have a plan. And Peter was right. Easing Scott into this was no longer an option, if it had ever been one in the first place. As unfair as it was, and it was unfair to the fullest, Scott didn’t have a choice. He was a werewolf, whether he liked it or not. 

“That’s what I thought,” Peter maintained. “I know you mean well, Derek, but you’re as naive as Scott if you think his time to be just a kid isn’t over already. And Stiles too, for that matter, if he is determined to be pack human.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “They still have normal, human lives ahead of them, Peter.”

“Yeah, sure. Lives that now will always contain threats,” he countered. “Hunters, wolfsbane, mountain ash.”

“Mountain ash?” Stiles asked, dragging both Peter and Derek out of their bubble. “I know what wolfsbane is. Aconite. Monkshood. Rumored to be the cure for werewolves, or a poison you can use against them.” 

“It’s not a cure,” Derek said, shaking his head. “Trust me. There’s no cure for what we are.”

“And there doesn’t need to be,” Peter scoffed. “There’s nothing wrong with us. Mountain ash can be used as a sort of… barrier for supernatural creatures. If you put a ring of mountain ash around this island, for example, only Stiles could move freely out of it. The rest of us would be trapped.”

“That’s kinda cool,” Stiles muttered. 

Derek snorted. “Not to us, thanks.”

“Uh, yeah, sorry,” Stiles said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I get why you guys would see it that way.” He coughed once to clear his throat before he changed the subject back to the task at hand. “Um, so maybe you could tell us more about joining the pack and what that entails. Like what would Scott have to do? Would he have to give up lacrosse?”

Scott’s eyes began to dart between Derek and Peter at the suggestion. “Again, normally, I’d say no lacrosse, but since Derek is right there as assistant coach, I don’t see a problem with Scott staying on the team. It might even be a good training exercise.” 

Stiles reached out with a smile and gave Scott’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “See, man, not all bad news, right?” He turned back to Peter. “What about Allison? Does he have to stop dating her because she’s a hunter or whatever?” 

Scott’s jaw set firmly at the insinuation this time. Derek could tell that even Peter noticed this one, and that Scott would not be giving up his girlfriend, as pointless as it was. 

“Okay, you didn’t tell me he was dating an Argent,” Peter muttered, looking to Derek out of the corner of his eye. 

“Uh, yeah, sorry. He’s dating Allison Argent.”

Peter took a deep breath, clearly considering his options. But, looking at Scott, he didn’t have but one. “There’s technically no rule against a hunter and a werewolf dating. It doesn’t happen often, obviously, but it’s not forbidden. So the answer is no, he doesn’t have to give up Allison. But, honestly, Scott, I’d take a few steps back. At least until you’ve started training. You don’t want to hurt her either.”

“Does Allison know she’s a werewolf hunter?” Scott piped up again. “I don’t think we’ve exactly established that. Because it doesn’t really matter if she doesn’t know, right?”

“She might not,” Peter explained. “Chris and Victoria, her parents, represent new school thinking in terms of the Argents. Chris’ father, Gerard, however, is very old school. Chris became a hunter well before Allison. But I think he wants to let her be a kid as long as possible and then make an informed decision.” 

“Even if she is, though, she and her family wouldn’t come after Scott without reason, right? That’s what Derek said yesterday. They have some kind of code.” 

“Every animal is hunted. Sometimes out in the open. Sometimes with traps,” Peter stated. “And, yes, Derek is right. Hunters won’t kill a werewolf who hasn’t hurt anyone else. But, without a pack and training, Scott is _very_ likely to hurt someone. And then be on their radar, whether he meant to do it or not. We have a truce, particularly with the Argents, but it won’t hold if werewolves start killing innocent people.” 

“Why don’t we just tell them what happened?” Stiles suggested. “Put Scott on their radar? I mean, if you don’t know who bit him, that means there could be some werewolf running around who’s not following rules. Wouldn’t they want to help us?”

Derek shrugged and looked at Peter. “That’s not the _worst_ idea.”

“Aww,” Stiles cooed. “Thanks, buddy.”

“It might not be, eventually, but I’d hold off for now,” Peter said, ignoring them. “We don't know who bit Scott or what drove them to it. They could be hurt, or in need of help. But with nothing to go on, the hunters might not believe us either, and then we’d all be in danger. Just because they’re often our allies doesn’t mean we aren’t all cautious.”

Once again, silence descended on the table as they all contemplated the full meaning behind everything they’d talked about. 

“Well,” Stiles said, clapping his hands together, “on that cheery note. We’re gonna be late for school if we don’t leave soon.”

“Yeah, you’d better be off,” Peter acknowledged. “Don’t worry about cleaning up. I’ll take care of it.”

“Do you guys want a ride? We could always pick up the Jeep after school,” Derek proposed. 

“No, I can drive,” Stiles said, shaking his head. “We have things to discuss, ya know, away from prying wolfy ears. And more importantly, it would be so lame to show up for school with a teacher. Even if he is the hot one.”

Peter burst out laughing at Stiles’ explanation and Derek rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he mumbled. 

Stiles and Scott stood up together, moving as one unit like they always did before Scott turned back to Peter. Derek watched him closely, his breath hitched in his chest as he anticipated his reaction. 

“Um, Peter?” he replied softly. 

“Yes, Scott?”

“Thanks. For breakfast.”

Peter nodded with a sweet smile that Derek hadn’t seen directed at anyone but him. He wasn't sure what to make of it. Or the odd need to protect Stiles from himself all of a sudden. 

“I’ll think about your offer. I really will,” Scott said. “It’s just a lot to process.”

“I know,” Peter assented. “We’ll talk more later, all right? Derek will be at school if you need anything.” 

Scott nodded once more as Stiles put an arm around his shoulder and led him toward the door. Derek lingered for a moment, listening to the Jeep start and then disappear from the driveway. 

“You think he’s going to join?” he asked, turning to Peter. 

He nodded slowly. “I think so. Just give him some time and keep an eye on him. You and I can’t imagine what it’s like for him,” he agreed. “We were born into this, like you said.” 

“It’d just feel more comfortable if we were all together,” Derek added.

Peter chuckled and shook his head as he continued to clean. “Don’t you think I wanted to follow you to school everyday after the fire?”

“You did,” Derek chuckled. 

“Yeah, but I stayed out of sight,” he teased. “Just be aware of them. Make sure they don’t get into too much trouble. I’ll poke around and see if I can figure out who bit Scott.”

“Thanks, Peter,” Derek added sincerely. 

“No thanks necessary,” he said, heading to the sink. “Now get outta here before you’re late for work.”

“Yes, _Dad_ ,” Derek quipped. 

“You’re a brat,” Peter whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear. 

Derek laughed loudly as he rounded the corner, picking up his own bag on the way out. As precarious of an edge it was that they all stood on, he knew it was going to be okay too. He wasn’t sure _how_ he knew that, but he knew.

He always knew. 


	6. Chapter 6

Scott could feel Allison’s eyes on him as he stood at his locker, no Stiles in sight to act as a buffer. Normally, especially with her, he didn’t want or need one, but lately he felt it was necessary. And Stiles was always good to diffuse some tension, should it arise.

But right now, he was all alone. And her wonderful lavender-scented shampoo was wafting toward him in waves, threatening to pull him under. 

He knew he wanted to be around her. Maybe even needed to be near her, but he didn’t want her to be angry with him for ditching her on their first official date. Even if it had been in her best interest in a lot of ways, it didn’t make him feel better for doing it. 

She deserved so much better than a half-assed text about being sick. 

He shut his locker and turned toward her slowly as she skipped over to him, a huge smile on her face. At the very least, she didn’t seem to be too mad. 

“Uh, hey,” he said, ducking his head. 

“Hey,” she said softly. 

She laughed nervously after a few seconds and linked their fingers together, pulling him along with her as she started to walk toward their next class. The last one of the day. And one of the few they had together. 

“Um, are you feeling better?” she asked timidly. 

“Yeah,” he said, swallowing hard and giving her a nod. “I just needed some rest. I think I ate something weird before I came. I was mostly fine after 24 hours, just, like, super tired. And I didn’t wanna get anyone else sick. Ya know?”

“Of course,” she answered. “Sorry I didn’t talk to you yesterday. It seemed like you were arguing with Stiles, maybe? And then you didn’t sit with us at lunch. I didn’t want to intrude on anything.”

Scott stopped and turned to face her, needing her to see that this wasn’t about her at all. She had to know that she was never an imposition. At least not to him. He knew what it felt like to think that and he couldn’t have Allison walking around with that weight. Even for a second. 

“Yeah, we were kinda fighting or whatever, but not as bad as last week. And you are never intruding,” he added. 

She gave him a half-smile, revealing her adorable dimpled cheek. And he couldn’t help but smile in return. 

“Have, uh, you two made up?” she asked, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “He’s usually attached to your hip. I’m a little surprised he’s not here right now.”

He chuckled lightly, feeling some of the pressure from his chest lifting as he started walking again, their fingers still intertwined. 

“Yeah. Yeah, we’re good. There’s some… other stuff going on, but it’s fine. Or it _will_ be.” He gave her a reassuring squeeze, working up the nerve to ask her the next question. “You’re not, uh, mad at me, right?”

“Why would I be mad at you for being sick, Scott?” she questioned with a sweet giggle. “I get it. We were having a great time and then you got sick. It was kinda gross and you didn’t want me to see you like that. I wouldn’t want you to see _me_ like that either.” 

“I’m sure you’d look great no matter how you felt,” he offered, the words tumbling out of his mouth. 

She blushed quickly at his words and looked ahead, unable to meet his eyes all of a sudden. He hated the idea that he had made her uncomfortable, but her next question told him maybe it wasn’t the kind of uncomfortable that he assumed. 

“So we never got to finish our date,” she observed. 

“Maybe we could try again sometime?” he implored. “I promise not to get sick again.” 

“Maybe,” she repeated coyly. 

“Is that maybe like you’re going to blow me off as payback? Or maybe you wanna go to dinner with me after practice?” he said with a smirk. 

Under no other circumstances would Scott McCall have had that much confidence, but he thought he knew what she was going to say and what she wanted him to ask. For the first time ever, he felt sure of his position. 

“You’ll just have to wait and see if I show up after practice, I guess,” she teased. 

“I guess that’s fair,” he joked back. 

She gave him another giggle, and he couldn’t help but feel that it was only meant for him. He was the only one who could elicit that particular smile, and he couldn’t help the way it bolstered him either. 

As they continued to their class, hands clasped, he forced himself not to think of the enormous decision he had to make. And soon. He forced himself to be with Allison and only Allison. If she didn’t know about her own history, that would be one thing. But if she did, and he was going to have to come clean one way or another real soon, he wanted to revel in this moment. And just be with her. 


	7. Chapter 7

The sound of lockers slamming was all Derek could make out as he waited for either Scott or Jackson to break the silence that had lasted all day. They’d both been tiptoeing around the conversation neither of them _really_ wanted to have, but Derek could tell Jackson was about to crack. 

In a big way. 

The fact that they now found themselves the last in the locker room was no accident either. Derek could hear the thoughts bouncing around in Jackson’s head at this point, but he was determined not to step in unless it was absolutely necessary. Under normal circumstances, Derek would think it was sweet how concerned Jackson was about a fellow teammate, maybe even a friend, but right now it was just annoying. 

And the fact that Scott couldn’t keep his damn mouth shut, literally or figuratively, made him nervous. 

“McCall,” Jackson said, walking over to him. 

His footfalls told Derek exactly where he was and he shut his eyes to envision the scene, hoping he would be able to tell a second or two before anything escalated if he needed to leave the coach’s office. 

Scott’s anger at his own situation was bubbling right near the surface at all times. Derek knew that feeling well. But right now it was dangerous. And not just because they needed to keep their true nature a secret. 

Jackson Whittemore was a good kid, and Derek knew that if Scott let himself lose it, even for a second, he’d never forgive himself. He knew _that_ feeling well too. 

Scott sighed. “What, Jackson?” He stood up, the bench groaning in protest at the absence of weight, causing all of Derek’s muscles to tense. “We have to get out to the field.”

“Not until you tell me you’ve taken my advice,” Jackson countered. 

“Jackson, I told you, I’m not on drugs,” Scott responded, the frustration evident to anyone who might be listening. “I know you’re worried about me, but please just believe me.”

“If you gave me a reason to, maybe I would,” Jackson begged. “There’s gotta be an explanation for your sudden improvement, McCall. And that’s the easiest one. Give me something else.” He paused, his tone shifting. “Anything else, dude.”

“Just lay off, all right?” Scott muttered. 

Scott was still laboring under the assumption that he was the ugly duckling of the team, and of school, and Jackson being worried about him didn’t make any sense. Derek understood that, but he was playing with fire. His moods were too hot and cold to be ignored, even by a casual observer. He needed Derek and Peter more than he realized. 

Derek heard the gentle clap of Jackson’s hand on Scott’s padded shoulder and he stood up without thinking. He had touched Scott. They were in entirely dangerous territory, no matter the intention. 

“In case you’re missing the point, McCall, I’m trying to help you,” Jackson insisted. 

“Well, I didn’t _ask_ you to care!” Scott yelled, rounding on Jackson as Derek pulled open the door. “So leave me alone!” 

Derek was around the lockers with his arms crossed before either of them could respond to Scott’s rage. 

“What’s going on here?” he asked, looking between the two of them. 

Scott shrugged off Jackson’s hand. “He doesn’t trust me. That’s what.”

Jackson turned to Derek with a smug look on his face and Derek watched him carefully. “I’m sure you’ve noticed McCall’s been acting strange. He won’t tell me why, so I think he’s on drugs. I’m trying to help him out, but he won’t let me.”

Jackson watched Derek just as closely as he waited for a reaction that was never going to come. He had spent all day playing out this very conversation, or some version of it, in his head. He knew what he wanted to say now. What he hoped would have the greatest impact on both of them. 

But he was still uncertain. He was still… nervous. 

“Because I don’t need your help, Jackson,” Scott mumbled. 

Derek nodded once and unfolded his arms, sticking his hands in his pockets. “I see.” He turned to Scott. “We might as well just come clean, I think.”

He knew Scott was going to get the wrong impression, especially since they hadn’t talked since breakfast, but it took everything Derek had not to laugh out loud at Scott’s eyes bulging out of their sockets. 

“Are you serious?” he asked incredulously. 

“It’s not that big of a deal, Scott,” Derek said, giving a noncommittal sort of shrug. “Jackson can keep a secret. And the last thing we want him thinking is that you’re on drugs when you’ve just been having private practice sessions with me all summer. Right?”

Scott blinked rapidly a few times, not turning to face Jackson before he answered slowly. “Right. Private practice sessions,” he repeated. 

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he straightened up to his full height and turned to face Jackson. 

“I guess he’s right. I should come clean,” he continued. 

“Private practice?” Jackson scoffed. “That’s bullshit. Practice made your asthma go away?” He pointed his finger right at Scott’s chest. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you haven’t taken a hit off your inhaler since the first day of school, McCall.”

“Of course practice can’t make asthma go away, Jackson,” Derek said shrewdly. “But breathing exercises can. Surely an athlete as accomplished as yourself knows that.”

With Derek’s words still lingering in the air, Jackson fell silent. He might be a good kid, but Derek knew what would get to him. At least shut him up, anyway. 

“Jackson, I appreciate you looking out for your teammates. I can understand how his improvement might seem abrupt to you, considering where he was at when we ended the season last year, but I can assure you that I’ve seen it form gradually over the summer. He worked really hard.”

“Okay, but why… why did he keep it a secret, then?” Jackson stammered. 

“I was embarrassed, okay?” Scott added convincingly. “I’ve been bad for so long. I just wanted to get better. But I kinda didn’t want everyone to know that and then expect me to be good. It’s… a lot of pressure, you know? Especially with my mom. I wanna be able to get an athletic scholarship, because there’s no way she’s affording college on a nurse’s salary. I was just trying to take some of that off her plate. That’s all.”

Jackson opened his mouth to say something else, but Derek held up his hand to stop him. He knew it ran deep for Scott, but not a damn word he’d just said was anything close to a lie. For Scott McCall, he’d won the lottery with that bite, even if he didn’t realize it yet. 

Feeling sorry for him had been all wrong for Derek. He didn’t need that. He needed guidance. He needed direction. He sure as shit didn’t need pity, though. 

“Jackson, we’d appreciate you keeping this to yourself,” Derek interjected. “And, of course, the assumption that Scott was on drugs stays between us as well.”

Once again, Jackson opened his mouth to debate further, but Derek’s stern gaze stopped the words in their tracks.

“I’ll see you out on the field, all right?” Derek asked, motioning toward the door behind him with his head. 

He gave one last huff before he stalked past them, slamming the door behind him as he left. When Derek was sure he was out of earshot, he turned his attention back to Scott, hoping that his anger was back in check fully. 

He swallowed nervously. “I, uh, don’t think he bought it.”

Derek couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “No. But he’ll have to. I mean, we _could_ always give you a drug test to shut him up, but it would probably show some other things we don't want people to know too. Probably not worth it.”

Scott nodded, giving Derek a half smile as he started to pack up his stuff and get ready to go outside too. “Thanks, by the way. I don’t think he would’ve let it go this time.”

“Probably not,” Derek agreed. “That’s what a pack does for each other, though, Scott. It’s not just turning and full moons and stuff. It’s about having each other’s backs. About everything.”

Surprisingly, Scott hung his head. And Derek had no idea what to make of it. He seemed embarrassed, maybe. Or shy. But neither of those reactions made sense at this point. 

“If he had kept pushing, and I had gotten angry enough, I could’ve hurt him, huh?”

Then he understood. He was embarrassed about what _could_ have happened, what he was capable of, more than what had actually gone down. 

“Definitely,” Derek acknowledged. “That’s why you need to learn to control your anger as soon as possible. It isn’t as hard as it sounds when you actually start doing it. And you don’t have to be in a pack for me to show you that. Okay?”

Scott nodded again. “Okay.” He looked up at Derek, his mouth set in a straight line. Almost like he had decided something. “Okay. I’ll join your pack.”

Derek licked his lips, pausing intentionally to give himself time to choose his words carefully. “I was serious. You don’t have to be in our pack.”

“But you’re right,” Scott admitted. “It’s dangerous. I… need a pack. And not just one with me and Stiles.”

Derek smirked. “It’s going to be okay, Scott. I promise.” He reached out and pulled him into a side hug, wrapping his arm around his shoulders. “Let’s get you to practice and we can talk about it later.”

Scott nodded one more time, his stick hanging limply at his side as Derek led him out toward the field. Despite all the odds, he was more optimistic than he’d been in years, and for something that had never brought him all that much joy in the first place. 

For once, Derek Hale saw his werewolf gene as not just something that killed. But something that might help.


	8. Chapter 8

Chris watched from the window as Allison drove up, only moments after his own father had. If he didn't know any better, he would’ve assumed his dad had planned it that way. 

He watched through the blinds as they raced out of their individual cars toward each other, Gerard adjusting his jacket as he straightened up. He held out his arms for his only granddaughter as she grinned and jumped at him, wrapping him up in a tight hug. 

“Grandpa,” she exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, sweetheart, I thought I’d surprise you. I’m not too late for dinner, am I?” he joked. 

“Of course not,” she said, a wide smile still on her face as she pulled back. “Come inside. I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Me too, sweetheart. Me too.”

Chris shook his head at the thought of whatever unfortunate situation Allison wasn’t privy to that had brought Gerard back to Beacon Hills years ahead of schedule, and he worried he was gearing up to drag her into it as well. 

Of course, both Chris and Victoria would put a stop to it, he knew that, but it didn’t make whatever he had planned any easier to deal with. Because Gerard Argent always had a plan, and bloodshed usually followed. 

He made sure to greet him with just as much enthusiasm when he walked in, if only for Allison’s sake, and Victoria, ever the faithful partner, knew what to do without Chris clueing her in on any of it. 

He didn’t know what he would’ve done without her, and she proved that every damn day. 

By the time dinner was on the table and he was sitting down next to his dad, who had taken the head without asking, his nerves were completely shot. He was basically vibrating with anticipation, surprised his teeth weren’t chattering and his hands weren’t shaking. 

“I can’t believe what a lovely young woman you’ve grown into, Allison,” Gerard commented as soon as Allison had scooted in her chair. “You’re almost eighteen now, huh? Any idea what you’re doing once you graduate?”

“Geez, Grandpa,” Allison teased, “way to put me on the spot.”

Everyone laughed lightheartedly, though Chris and Victoria weren’t feeling that way in the least. Chris focused on putting green beans on his plate with careful, precise movements, waiting for Allison to answer. 

When she didn’t seem like she would, he decided he better step in. 

“Come on, Dad. Allison’s got plenty of time to decide what she wants to do,” he argued. “Let’s let her graduate high school first.”

Gerard shrugged. “Well, I heard that you have to start applying to colleges before senior year even starts to get in on time. It’s not like when you and I went to school.”

“That might be true, Gerard,” Victoria piped up, “but Allison can take a year off if she wants. There’s nothing wrong with relaxing a bit after graduation. High school’s a lot harder than it used to be. They even changed math.”

Chris couldn’t help but genuinely laugh at that one, remembering the hours they had all poured over her homework when Common Core was introduced. He’d never felt so dumb as he had trying to decipher a middle schooler’s homework, but they had managed. 

And it was memories exactly like that one that made him want to hang onto her just a little while longer. Once he told her all their secrets, she wouldn’t be a little girl anymore. It was impossible. All your innocence evaporated when the responsibilities that came with being an Argent were unleashed. 

“Well, math was never my strong suit,” Gerard continued. “History was. What do you think of history, Allison?”

Chris fought not to roll his eyes at his dad’s thinly veiled attempt at bringing up something that they had shielded Allison from her whole life. And something he had fought with his dad tooth and nail to keep away from his house. 

“History’s cool, I guess,” she answered finally with a shrug. 

Gerard smiled in a devious sort of way that he was famous for, and Chris’ heart skipped a beat. “You guess? Well, perhaps I can give you a greater appreciation for history while I’m here,” he promised. 

Chris knew that was too far, and so did Gerard, but it was Victoria that gave a simple cough to bring the conversation back to something much more innocuous. And much less loaded. When Chris caught his dad’s attention again, he held his hands up in a sort of mock surrender when Allison wasn’t looking, signaling he would be on his best behavior. 

Not that Chris believed it for a second. 

But it’s later when he can’t avoid the conversation anymore and Allison had just said goodnight that Gerard rounded on Chris. 

“How is it possible you two haven’t mentioned anything to her about the family business yet? Do you not remember how young you were?” 

“She’s not eighteen yet, Dad,” Chris answered in as bored of a voice as he could muster. 

“Gerard, we want her to have the chance to be a child. So many people in families like ours don’t get that chance,” Victoria added. 

“Yes, and a lot don’t get a chance to grow up either,” Gerard reported. “And being ill-equipped for this life sounds an awful lot like setting her up for failure. And what does failure mean, Chris?”

“You are not to tell her anything, Dad,” Chris hissed. “We will tell her when she graduates. And not a second before that.”

“Why do you think we’ve been encouraging her to take a year off? We’ll tell her and then she’ll have enough time to process everything.”

“This is a dangerous game you two are playing and you know it. She lives in Beacon Hills now, for Christ’s sake. There are werewolves here, and she knows nothing about them.”

“It’s just the Hales, Dad,” Chris said with a roll of his eyes. “And we have a truce with them. Do you really think I’ve been leaving her unprotected? We moved back here  _ because _ we have a truce.”

“She has to be able to protect herself, son. You can’t be there every single time she needs you,” he insisted. “You have to tell her.”

“When she’s eighteen,” Chris said firmly.

Gerard shook his head sadly. “You’re not in charge anymore, son,” he stated simply. “We’ll tell her when  _ I _ say. Because I’m staying.”

Without another word, Gerard left both Chris and Victoria staring after him with their mouths open. He didn’t need to look over to see she was as dumbfounded by his revelation as he was, and for the exact same reasons. 

If he was here now, in this moment, they had  _ all _ agreed to it. Not just Gerard. It went above his head. It involved their whole family line. 

And they hadn’t been included. 

More than likely it had to do with their new worldviews on all matters concerning the supernatural, but that didn’t make him feel any better right now. The Argents were mobilizing. 

And that meant one thing. War. 

**Author's Note:**

> P.S. If you have any questions or concerns regarding differences in canon and our fanon rewrite, please leave us a comment. We'll answer each one! Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> P.P.S. A special thanks to the show writers involved in this episode: [@GrimReaperLover11](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrimReaperlover11) and [@WhenAngelsFall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhenAngelsFall)
> 
> You can also hang out with me on Tumblr and request things here: [the-galaxy-collector](https://www.the-galaxy-collector.tumblr.com)
> 
> Or at my _Teen Wolf_ Discord Server here: [ The Beacon Hills Preserve](https://discord.gg/xm24uP6)


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